


Gimme Light

by Glitter_Lisp



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Older Woman/Younger Man, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: Did she do it? Did she go to bed with an actual, real-life rock star ten years her junior?Yes, kids. Yes, she did.
Relationships: Harry Hook/Uma
Kudos: 33





	Gimme Light

**Author's Note:**

> I got a Hulu subscription literally just so that I could watch Thomas Doherty in High Fidelity, and it might just be the greatest decision I've ever made in my life. So here, have some loosely inspired silliness starring nineteen-year-old musician Harry and twenty-nine-year-old record store owner Uma, who are entirely failing at keeping things casual.

For some reason, she's always surprised when Harry is up and moving before she's so much as opened her eyes. She's not sure why, because it's the same routine almost every morning she gets to see him; he's up with the sun whenever it rises no matter when that is or how much sleep he's gotten. 

She's still yawning when she drags herself out of the bedroom, grinning at the sight of Harry shuffling sleepily around her kitchen without a shirt and humming as he attempts to drink coffee and microwave leftovers at the same time. Uma has to bite back a laugh when he stops and stares blankly at the microwave for a few seconds like he's not sure how to use it. Being an early riser does not in any way make him a morning person. 

“You gotta open the door,” she says helpfully, and he starts badly enough that he nearly drops his coffee cup. He manages to catch it without spilling any, but the carton of rice in his other hand isn't so lucky; it lands on the floor and bounces across the kitchen towards Uma, thankfully still shut. 

“Oh,” Harry says. “I– sorry, I was gonna make you breakfast. I couldn't remember if you could microwave those.”

Uma snorts as she bends down to pick up the container. The rice has dried out after a night in the fridge and congealed into an almost solid block. “If you could microwave rice?”

“No, the…” Harry gestures vaguely with his freehand. “The container. Because it's paper. And metal. I don't know, I didn't want to light your kitchen on fire when I'm trying to do something nice.”

“Well, it's very nice of you to try to microwave a cube of white rice for me,” Uma says, “but how about I take over?”

Harry nods obligingly and steps out of the way so Uma can get to the fridge and start pulling out styrofoam containers of their leftover dinner. 

“Why rice?” she asks, grabbing a plate and scooping out equal amounts of honey chicken, lo mein, and broccoli beef onto it. 

“Hm?” Harry asks. When she glances over her shoulder, it's to see him leaving back against the counter and all but cuddling his coffee cup to his chest, blinking drowsily at her. 

“The rice,” she clarifies. “We have actual food here, and you went for the rice first?”

“Uh, it was on top of the other boxes,” he says. “And I forgot what was in each one.”

“You could have opened it and looked,” Uma says, grinning at him before she pops the plate in the microwave and grabs another one out of the cabinet, dumping out an even amount of everything left onto it. 

She can almost hear Harry's shrug. She does hear him slurp noisily at his coffee. “I didn't think about it. I just wanted to say thanks for dinner, and for letting me crash here last night.”

The microwave going off covers the sound of Uma snorting. “Of course,” she says, pulling the plate out and handing it and a fork to Harry. “My takeout and ancient mattress saved you from a five star hotel and room service.”

“It did,” Harry insists, setting his now-empty cup to the side so he can take the plate from her. “I would've been bored, and I hate being alone after shows. And see, look, now you're feeding me breakfast, too. I lucked out.”

Uma laughs as she puts her own plate in the microwave. “I don't know that leftovers count as a second meal. This is basically still dinner.”

Harry shrugs. “Better than fifty dollars for a piece of toast and bacon. The company doesn't hurt, either.”

“I'm flattered,” Uma says dryly. “Who knew all it takes to get a rock star in your bed is some noodles and chicken?”

“We're kind of easy like that,” Harry agrees. “Helps if you're the one offering it.”

Uma doesn't bother to hide her smile. “Look at you, all smooth.”

“I try,” he says cheerfully around a mouthful of chicken. “Damn, this is some good shit.”

Uma nods as she pulls her own plate out of the microwave and digs in. “I know all the best places around here. Hit me up whenever you're in the city for longer than five minutes and want me to blow your mind.”

Harry grins at her, and she rolls her eyes, already knowing what's coming. “I'll blow  _ your  _ mind,” he says, and she shakes her head with a laugh. 

“Blew my mind with how tired you were, maybe. Hate to break it to you, hotshot, but you fell asleep in the middle of dinner last night.”

“Still blew your mind,” Harry says, unabashed, and keeps shoveling food into his mouth like he hasn't eaten in days. “Did I really, though?”

“You almost face planted into your noodles,” Uma confirms. “I got you up long enough to get you in bed, and that was it.”

Harry grimaces down at his plate. “Damn. And here I was looking to impress you with all the glitz and glam.”

“Nah, it was cute,” Uma says, waving a hand dismissively. “And I was plenty impressed at the show. Got enough glitz and glam yesterday to last me a year.”

“Lucky you,” Harry says dryly. “Some of us are stuck with it for another month.”

“Lucky  _ you,” _ Uma says. “You know you love it.”

“I do, I do,” Harry says. “It'll be nice when we're done and I can be home for a while, though. I'd like to spend more than a few minutes at a time with you.”

Uma ducks her head, grinning at her plate. “You're embarrassing.”

“It's true, though,” Harry insists, setting his now-empty plate on the counter next to him. “I like you. I like spending time with you. And I love being on tour, but I miss you when I'm gone.”

“I miss you too,” Uma says softly. “One month. Then you can  _ actually _ blow my mind, how about that?”

Harry leans around so he can read the time on the microwave behind her. “I don't have to be at the studio until ten. There's no reason to wait a whole month.”

Uma barely has time to set her plate down before he's across the kitchen, hoisting her up by her thighs and dropping her on the counter. She laughs and tilts her head away even as she wraps her arms around his neck to tug him closer. 

“Ew, oh my god,” she says when he goes in for a kiss. “Oh no no,  _ hell _ no. You have morning breath  _ and _ coffee breath  _ and _ greasy reheated leftovers breath. Get your mouth  _ away _ from me.”

“I wanna kiss you,” he whines. “Been thinking about it for weeks. Didn't get to do it properly last night.”

Uma snickers and tugs lightly on his hair until he gives up with a gusty sigh and drops his forehead against her shoulder. “We made out the entire drive home.”

“Doesn't count,” Harry mumbles petulantly against her collarbone. “I was sleepy, I don't remember it. Wanna kiss on you right.”

“Tell you want,” she says, leaning back so that he has to look up at her. He looks so pitiful, messy hair and exaggerated pout, that she caves in and gives him a quick peck on the lips. His smile when she pulls away is the sweetest thing, bright and wide and sudden, and her heart flutters in a way that it hasn't since… well, probably since she was Harry's age, still young enough to think that wanting something badly enough would make it happen. 

Looking at Harry standing between her thighs, grinning at her like he believes the same thing, she can't find it in herself to mind the feeling. 

She presses a second kiss to the corner of his mouth, because she wasn't lying when she said he had morning breath and she doubts hers is much better. “Tell you what,” she repeats, unexpectedly breathless, “how about we brush our teeth like functional adults, then get around to blowing each other's minds?”

His grin widens. “Sounds like an excellent plan to me.”


End file.
